


The Ghost of Christmas Drunkenness

by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:27:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23088541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/pseuds/letmetellyouaboutmyfeels
Summary: Wyatt gets hammered at the office Christmas party, and reveals a few very interesting insights to Flynn.
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Wyatt Logan
Comments: 8
Kudos: 32





	The Ghost of Christmas Drunkenness

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted here: https://letmetellyouaboutmyfeels.tumblr.com/post/180456862273/were-co-workers-who-hate-each-other-but-you-had

If there was ever a prompt that screamed ‘Flogan’ it would be this one. Anything for you my lovely! Story below the cut.

Flynn hated work mixers.

He especially, _especially_ hated the holiday work mixers.

The thing was, he got along pretty well with his coworkers. He did. He had nothing against any of them. But they were his coworkers. Work and friends had always, for Flynn, been separate. When he left the office, he wanted to leave it all behind, and that included the people.

No offense.

But as the head of the security department he sort of had to put in an appearance, and so here he was, sipping the spiked (wow, really spiked) punch and watching Rufus and Jiya do their usual will-we-or-will-we-not dance over by the Secret Santa presents table.

If nothing else, Flynn supposed, the party was a distraction from the sad, lonely apartment he had waiting for him. This would mark his third Christmas since Lorena and Iris had died, and he hated how he was almost used to it.

“Flynn!” Dave Baumgardner hissed, grabbing him. “Who the fuck spiked the punch?”

“If we’re taking bets I’m putting ten bucks on Mason.”

“No, I mean–Wyatt’s on like his fourth drink.”

…fuck.

Wyatt Logan, one of Flynn’s security team and the thorn in his side since the guy had been hired last year. He was good at his job, knew how to follow orders (when it suited him) and was definitely qualified for an emergency situation. But he was also too pretty for his own (or Flynn’s) good, cocky and hotheaded, had a distracting ass, and absolutely hated Flynn’s guts.

Dave looked pleadingly at Flynn. “I’ve been trying to get a date with Noah for months, man, and he _just_ asked me if I wanted to blow this joint and go out for a drink with him, can you please look after Wyatt? He’s gonna throw up in the Christmas tree or something, I just know it.”

The saga of Dave and Noah had been rivaling Rufus and Jiya for annoying slow burn. Flynn had personally decided to take a chance on Dave and had put twenty bucks into the office pool that he and Noah would get their shit together before Jiya lost patience with Rufus and jumped him in the copy machine room, so if he had to babysit the attractive as fuck coworker who hated him for half an hour to salvage his pride, then by all means. Small price to pay when he won the office pool on Monday.

“Fine. But if he ruins my suit, Baumgardner, I’ll find a way to take it out of your paycheck.”

“You’re the best.” Dave clapped him on the shoulder and darted away.

Wyatt was staring at the Christmas tree like a cat. That is to say, his eyes were abnormally wide and he looked like he was contemplating how best to a) climb and b) destroy said tree.

“There you are,” Flynn said, wrapping an arm around Wyatt’s shoulders to distract him from Flynn taking the cup of punch out of his hand and setting it down. “I’ve been looking for you. Time to go home.”

He expected a quip about how he wasn’t Wyatt’s babysitter. Instead Wyatt stared at him for a beat then said, his words a trifle slurred, “is this some weird Scrooge’d alternate reality?”

“What?”

“You’re asking me to go home,” Wyatt said. “So. Is this… Ghost of Christmas Present if I hadn’t fucked up? Kind of deal?”

Aaaaaaand they were firmly in making-no-sense territory. “Sure, if that makes you happy. C’mon.”

“It doesn’t make me happy,” Wyatt pouted. He was very pretty when he pouted. Flynn vowed that Wyatt would never know that, because he’d use it against him somehow. Also Wyatt screamed ‘closeted bi’ with every pore of his being.

“Maybe going home will make you happy, huh? Let’s go.”

“Us?” Wyatt perked up. “Together?”

“Yes, you’re not driving in this state.”

“I would never put your life in danger,” Wyatt vowed, his voice dropping down and his face becoming extremely serious.

Flynn had to bite the inside of his cheek to hold in his laughter. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” he said gravely.

Wyatt smiled sappily up at him. “So we’re going home? To bed?”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Wyatt desperately needed to sleep this off.

Flynn got Wyatt’s car keys out of his pocket and put them in his own—he’d take a cab back to the party to pick up his own car once he’d gotten Wyatt safely in bed. He waved to Rufus to let him see that Flynn was leaving. If a fight broke out, Flynn wasn’t going to be there to stop it (unlike last year).

Wyatt got into the car and buckled his seatbelt, perfectly docile. Flynn probably should’ve been more suspicious of it, but he was too busy trying to program the map app on his phone to get to the address Wyatt slurred out and then too busy dealing with holiday traffic to think about how quiet Wyatt was being until Wyatt blurted out,

“So how did it happen, in this universe?”

“Hmm?”

“In this. This Wyatt didn’t fuck up timeline. How did we get together?”

Flynn nearly rear-ended the car in front of him. “What?”

Wyatt looked over at him, his lips slick and pink, his eyes a little glazed, his hair mussed. Jesus, he already looked halfway to debauched. “I mean, was I nicer to you? Was I out? Was I better about the whole stupid crush on my boss thing?”

“…you have a crush on me.”

Wyatt snorted. “Dude I’m in love with you.”

Flynn swerved and the car in the next lane over gave him a well-deserved blare of the horn. “How long?”

Wyatt hummed, counting on his fingers. “Um… dunno? I mean I thought you were hot as fuck right away, y’know, and then you’re just… you’re really good at what you do, yeah? And you’re funny. I don’t think people like it? Because you’re _right_ about how stupid they are half the time? But man when Emma burned her hand on the coffeemaker and you told her to just put it on her heart to cool it off… I think I snorted my entire cup of joe up my nose.”

Flynn hadn’t even known Wyatt was paying attention then. He’d known Wyatt was in the room, the way an addict is always aware of the alcohol in the cupboard, but he hadn’t thought–he’d never–

“But yeah, somewhere along there… just fuckin’ fell in love with you.” Wyatt gave him the saddest pair of puppy eyes Flynn had ever seen. “But by then I’d been such a jerk about it I knew you hated me.” He perked up. “But not in this timeline. I did it right this time. Yeah? So now, what, I get shown Christmas Future? I’m some poor sap alone in a nursing home?”

“We’re here,” Flynn announced, desperately grateful.

Wyatt took his hand as Flynn helped him out, and then just… didn’t let go.

Great.

Flynn tried very, very hard to ignore the feel of Wyatt’s hand in his and the way Wyatt leaned against him as they rode the elevator up to Wyatt’s floor. Wyatt smelled like cinnamon and punch, and he looked like he was just begging to be messed up and marked, and Flynn was never more aware of his own tentative grasp on his self-control than at this moment.

Wyatt saw his bed and gasped like Flynn had given him a present. “I missed you soooo much,” he said, flopping onto it.

Flynn tugged off Wyatt’s shoes and socks as Wyatt patted his bed and asked if it had missed him, too. Then Flynn got a glass of water and some aspirin and put them on the bedside table.

Wyatt was already asleep.

Flynn reached out, carding his hand through Wyatt’s hair.

Wyatt was in love with him.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with _that?_

* * *

What the fuck he did was do a spectacular job of avoiding Wyatt all of Monday. And all of Tuesday. And most of Wednesday.

End of Wednesday, though, Wyatt cornered him. “Okay, boss, what gives.”

Wyatt knew that Flynn hated to be called ‘boss’. Although the few times Wyatt said ‘sir’ had made an unholy shiver run up Flynn’s spine so thank God Wyatt didn’t say that one more often.

“Nothing gives, Logan.”

“You’re avoiding me.” Wyatt’s voice was tough but his eyes were wide and scared.

_He remembers_ , Flynn thought. He’d been hoping, for Wyatt’s own sake, that he wouldn’t.

“I’m not–”

“Look, I don’t know what I said but I know you took me home after the party and I know I was drunk off my ass.” Wyatt looked down at his feet, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Holidays, y’know, tough, I drink a little too much sometimes. But whatever it was… if I was rude, or I said bad shit, I’m sorry man.”

“You weren’t rude,” Flynn assured him. “You were very cooperative.”

Wyatt nodded, still looking at the ground. “I know you—I know I’m not exactly your favorite person, so I’m sorry you had to deal with me like that.”

Okay, what? “You think I don’t like you?”

Wyatt’s head snapped up. “I haven’t given you a reason to like me.”

“I don’t dislike you, I just–you’re the most difficult person to work with, you know that?”

“You’re pretty difficult yourself, y’know?”

Flynn chuckled in spite of himself. “Fair.”

“But what did I say? You’re avoiding me, Flynn, I know I did something wrong.” Wyatt still looked terrified.

Flynn sighed. “You… You, ah, you thought–you admitted you had… feelings for me.”

Wyatt’s face turned the color of milk. He stared at Flynn in abject horror for a moment. “I—I’m—I’m sorry.”

“You’re sorry?”

“I shouldn’t have–I never wanted you to know, I—oh God.” Wyatt sounded absolutely miserable. “Can we forget that happened? I’m not expecting—I know you don’t—I can keep myself to myself, I promise.”

Flynn had the thought that they really were both ridiculous. And he really didn’t want to spend another holiday alone. And he didn’t think Wyatt did either. “What if I didn’t want you to keep yourself to yourself?”

Wyatt stared at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

Flynn cupped Wyatt’s face in his hands and kissed him, softly, as slowly and gently as he could. When he pulled away, Wyatt’s eyes were lit up like… well, like Christmas lights.

“You got any plans for next Thursday?” he asked.

“Next Thursday is Christmas,” Wyatt pointed out.

Flynn kissed him once more, just to drive the point home. “Exactly.”

He could feel Wyatt’s smile against his mouth. “No. No I don’t have any plans at all besides yours.”


End file.
